


Blind, but I’m Still Alive

by MollyPollyKinz



Series: All the Kings Men [5]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blindness, Blood, Child Abuse, Claustrophobia, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Nightmares, Serious Injuries, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28185324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MollyPollyKinz/pseuds/MollyPollyKinz
Summary: Green flashed in his vision, and Tommy found himself staring face to face with a horribly familiar porcelain mask.“Oh, Tommy,” Dream sighed, sounding frighteningly like Wilbur as he spoke, “What are you doing here?”Dream grasped Tommy by the shoulder, and just like in so many of his nightmares, the man squeezed it painfully.“Did you really think that he cares about you?Techno?”Dream’s mouth twisted in disgust. “He doesn’t care about you. Remember what he did?”
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: All the Kings Men [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053368
Comments: 250
Kudos: 2076





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you observant enough, I changed the title because I liked this one better.

Dream visited Techno for the second time, saying that he “trusted” Technoblade, but he wanted to search the house just in case.

In his entire life, Phil had never sat so quietly with a sleeping (and invisible) Tommy in his arms. He hardly breathed as he heard Dream’s footsteps overhead. When Dream finally left, Phil let out a strangled, yet relieved gasp, as though he hadn’t breathed in hours.

After the hypothermia came the fever. Techno, Phil, and Ghostbur all found themselves frantically trying to cool down the boy they had been trying to warm up only a day ago.

Tommy’s nightmares were not a pleasant affair to listen to. Ghostbur straight up left whenever he heard Wilbur’s name uttered. Phil would try to shake Tommy out of the nightmare, sometimes to the point of crawling into bed with his son. But he would be lying if he said he wasn’t trying to piece together the story behind each word that would slip from the sleeping boy’s lips.

Wilbur had definitely hurt Tommy, that much was obvious. Dream had also definitely hurt Tommy. It was simply the matter of _how_ that ate Phil up inside.

Tommy started being coherent and staying awake for longer periods. All of them noted with relief that their youngest member was finally starting to recover. In celebration, Ghostbur befriended a sheep, dyed him blue, named him friend, and showed Friend to Tommy for him to pet. It was so damn pure that Phil was tempted to find a secluded corner and cry for a bit.

Still, if Tommy could continue recovering at this rate, they could hit the road pretty soon. Maybe then they could pull themselves as far away as possible from Dream.

Tommy sunk his fingers into Friend’s blue wool as he stared down at his communicator. He had received a message from Tubbo a few days ago, although he had been too sick to notice it. Now, however, he read it with an unwavering desperation.

_Hey, Tommy…Dream says that you’re dead and you killed yourself. Was it because of me? Did I do this? I…I miss you Tommy. I’m sorry for exiling you. Please, message me back if you’re still alive. Please, Big Man._

Tommy’s eyes burned as he stared at the message, and he stubbornly blinked away the tears. Big men didn’t cry.

As if knowing what Tommy was thinking, friend lightly nudged Tommy’s communicator with his face. Tommy let out a watery laugh and buried his hand deeper into the sheep’s soft wool.

Phil told him not to send any messages to anyone in L’manberg, just in case they told Dream he was alive. Phil said it was safer for Dream to think he was dead.

Tommy understood that, and he even believed that Philza was right. But he _so_ wanted to message Tubbo and tell him that he was fine.

Completely unsure of what to do, Tommy simply stared at his communicator.

 _I’m sorry for exiling you._ Did Tubbo really mean that? He didn’t sound particularly sorry about it when he exiled Tommy. And Dream said that Tubbo was doing better than ever without Tommy.

Tommy scowled. Why should he care what Dream said? Dream was a liar. He didn’t give a crap about Tommy.

_But Dream was the only one there when Tommy felt so alone. That had to count for something, right?_

Tommy clutched his head, which still hurt, thanks to his sickness. He hated being this way. He hated that his mind was a mess of confused feelings.

Tommy decided to stop thinking about Dream for now.

His fingers hovered over his communicator, and once again, Tommy played with the idea of sending Tubbo something short. Something to tell his friend that he was alive.

Techno, who had been reading in the corner, glanced out of the window and frowned. “Who is Wilbur talking to?” he asked.

Tommy shrugged. “What does it matter?” he muttered, “It’s probably some poor villager who thought that Wilbur had anything other than blue on him.”

And suddenly, Tommy heard Ghostbur’s voice echo across the field of snow. “Hey, Technoblade! We have visitors!”

Before Technoblade could turn to him, Tommy was already hopping out of bed and heading down the ladder toward their secret basement. Phil was coming up the ladder, clearly hearing the commotion.

“Is it Dream?” he asked.

Tommy tried (and failed) to hide his flinch. “I don’t think so,” Tommy said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt, “Ghostbur said visitors this time.”

Dream still occasionally visited, under the guise of wanting to spend some ‘quality time’ with Technoblade. None of them were fooled. Tommy thought it was nothing short of a miracle that a) Tommy hadn’t been found hiding, and b) Technoblade or Phil hadn’t killed Dream yet.

Tommy wasn’t blind. He saw the way Philza and Techno’s faces would darken at the mere mention of the masked man. Tommy didn’t like speaking of him himself, so the subject was rarely broached.

“Well, stay inside regardless,” Phil said, “Hopefully, it won’t be long.”

Tommy really had planned on staying in the secret basement, but as he was sitting in the bed down there, he heard a familiar voice. He couldn’t make out the words, but he could have sworn that the voice he heard was…

He heard the voice again. There was no doubt about it this time.

_Tubbo._

Tommy grabbed an invisibility potion from the chest and quietly gulped it down before he walked back up the ladder. He wouldn’t be seen; he just wanted to see how Tubbo was doing.

When he peeked through the window outside, however, Tommy was met with a very unexpected sight.

Tubbo, Quackity, Ranboo _,_ and Fundy were all pointing _axes_ toward Phil and Technoblade. Ghostbur was trying to calm the procession to literally no avail.

“We’re going to kill you, Technoblade,” Quackity said, waving his axe violently toward Tommy’s brother and father, “So we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

_Kill Technoblade?_

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Phil said firmly, “Techno hasn’t been bothering you since he spawned those withers. You have no business coming here.”

“ _No business?”_ Tubbo asked incredulously, “Phil, he spawned Withers in L’manburg. He killed _me!”_

Technoblade flinched. Phil’s face hardened. “Unless I am distinctly mistaken, you forgave Techno for that last part.”

Tubbo’s voice became flinty in a way Tommy had heard only once before.

_Dream, please detain and escort Tommy out of my country._

“Philza Minecraft, you are a citizen of L’manberg. I command you to step away from Technoblade.”

Philza bared his teeth and went to reply, but Techno gently moved him out of the way.

“Phil, I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” Techno said, “Let me handle this.”

Phil did _not_ look pleased, but he slowly stepped away from Technoblade. Ghostbur was still floating around and distributing blue, trying to get everyone to calm down.

“Have some blue, calm yourself,” he was saying.

Nobody was listening to him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Techno blade was saying slowly, “The voices want blood, but I’ve been resisting them. You’ve no _idea_ how much I’ve been resisting them lately.”

Tubbo, Quackity, and the others wouldn’t back down, however, and Techno began fighting all four of them, somehow managing to hold his own against them all. Phil tried to join in, but once again, Techno stopped him.

Tommy wanted to go out and help, but what help could he be right now? He was still sick, he could barely stand straight. Even now, he was using the window sill as support as he watched the scene unfold, his knuckles were practically white.

Eventually, however, Tommy couldn’t stand watching the fight any longer, and he turned around to grab a sword.

Green flashed in his vision, and Tommy found himself staring face to face with a horribly familiar porcelain mask.

Tommy froze, not even daring to breathe. If he stayed quiet enough, Dream shouldn’t notice him. He was invisible, after all, and it wasn’t like he was wearing any armor.

Tommy glanced down at himself, just to be safe. Tommy’s heart skipped about thirty beats. He could see himself. He wasn’t invisible.

He still didn’t dare to breathe.

“Oh, Tommy,” Dream sighed, sounding frighteningly like Wilbur as he spoke, “What are you doing here?”

Tommy took a step back, hitting his back against the windowsill. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. It was only him and Dream.

“I, I—” Tommy sputtered.

Dream grasped Tommy by the shoulder, and just like in so many of his nightmares, the man squeezed it painfully.

“Did you really think that he cares about you? _Techno?”_ Dream’s mouth twisted in disgust. “He doesn’t care about you. Remember what he did?”

How could Tommy forget? _Tubbo, exploding in fireworks. Withers destroying what remained of L’manberg. Angrily shouted tales of heroes who died unhappy deaths._

But it didn’t matter what Tommy remembered, because Dream was manipulating him. This was a lie. This was a screwing lie, and Tommy knew it. Why did he still want to seek comfort from the man in front of him? Why was he tempted to agree with everything Dream was about to say?

He couldn’t allow himself to be shaped into a perfect pawn. Tommy forced himself to take a shuddering breath. “I— _you_ don’t care about me either.”

Dream didn’t miss a beat, and he smiled effortlessly. Still, Tommy didn’t fail to notice how his hand tightened on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Of course, I care about you,” Dream said, “Come on, Tommy, would I really visit you as much as I did if I didn’t care about you?”

That was true. No one visited as much as Dream had. Dream was his friend. Dream hadn’t abandoned him.

 _Focus._ “Yes,” Tommy whispered, the confidence draining from his voice by each second, “You, you wanted to watch me. You want to make me listen.”

Dream laughed. Tommy winced. “Do you really think I would go through all of that effort to watch you?” he asked. Dream tutted. “Tommy, Tommy, Tommy. I’m afraid Technoblade has been filling your head with lies like always. You should come back with me.”

Tommy could barely think. Two opposing forces fought each other in his mind. Dream was evil. Dream was his friend. Dream was manipulating him. Dream cared. Dream was dangerous. Dream was safe.

Which was right? Which one could Tommy trust? Could he trust either?

Techno’s whispered apology rang through his head. Phil rocking Tommy in his arms as he cried. Ghostbur practically shoving his new sheep upon Tommy to pet.

 _Lads on Tour._ Ghostbur had suggested, all those nights before. Tommy wanted to do lads on tour. Before, he hadn’t realized how much he wanted it, but now, he wanted it so much Tommy thought he might burst.

Dream was gripping his shoulder so tightly that if he tried, Dream could probably rip Tommy’s arm out of his socket. Still, Tommy gritted his teeth through the pain and said, “Sorry Dream, but I’m not your puppet anymore.”

And a lot of things happened at once.

Dream pulled out his sword and stabbed Tommy in the leg. Tommy screamed out in agony.

At the noise, Phil got distracted from defending himself from Quackity, who seized his advantage and got Phil at knifepoint.

While Tommy heard Quackity screaming at Technoblade to stand down, Dream shattered a splash potion of invisibility, rendering both Tommy and Dream invisible. Tommy struggled against the invisible arms dragging him away, but he was already feeling weak from the blood loss in his leg.

Ghostbur, however, prided himself on being very observant, and when he heard Tommy scream, he immediately zoomed over to see whatever was the matter. When he saw blood being slowly dragged across the floor, as well as Tommy’s screams being continued, Ghostbur made the only logical conclusion.

Tommy was invisible and in pain.

“Tommy, that’s alright, I’m here. Where are you?”

Ghostbur heard Tommy’s shout, more distant this time. “DREAM IS KIDNAP—”

The shouts became muffled, and Ghostbur found himself following the bloodtrail with even more fervor than before. Pulling out his crossbow, he played with the idea of shooting in the general direction of Dream and Tommy and hoping that it hits Dream. If he could hit Dream with the glow effect, it might get him a good shot.

Probably not worth the risk of hitting Tommy, however.

Ghostbur continued following them.

At the scream, Tubbo had known something was horribly wrong. The screaming persisted as Quackity held a knife to Philza’s throat and demanded that Technoblade stand down.

Tubbo had never seen Philza or Techno look more afraid in their lives. Tubbo wasn’t sure if it was out of fear for their own lives, or for the life of whoever was still screaming and now shouting,

“DREAM IS KIDNAP—”

Wait a moment. That was Tommy. That was Tommy! What was Tommy doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to be dead? And if Tommy was here, why was he yelling about Dream?

Quackity lowered the knife at Philza’s throat in shock. Tubbo could barely shout out a warning before Philza flipped Quackity into the cold snow, looking like murder itself.

“Phil, was that Tommy?” Tubbo asked, his voice wavering, “What’s happening to Tommy?!”

Tubbo didn’t even try to stop them as Phil and Techno began sprinting toward Ghostbur, who seemed to be following an invisible trail.

“You’re just going to let them go?” Quackity sputtered, indignant.

“That was Tommy,” Tubbo whispered, “Tommy’s alive.”

Tubbo could barely hear his friend’s shocked replies as he walked in the direction that Ghostbur, Phil, and Techno had headed. It took him a moment to find the invisible trail that Ghostbur had been following, but find it Tubbo did.

Blood. So much blood, making an long trail to who knows where.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any inaccuracies or for the cliffhanger! I hope you enjoyed! :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy woke up in a cold, dark room.
> 
> As he looked around, trying to take in his surroundings, he became aware of many things at once.
> 
> First of all, his leg hurt like hell. If he recalled correctly, that would have to do with the fact that Dream, you know, stabbed him.

Technoblade ran faster than he had ever ran in his life, following Ghostbur, who was quickly following the trail of blood that Techno was running over. The snow crunched underneath his boots, a sickening reminder of what Dream could be doing to Tommy even as they chased the currently invisible man.

The voices in his head were screaming now. _HURRY, HURRY, HURRY. TOMMY. KILL DREAM. BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD._

Techno ran faster.

Phil had taken his wings out and started following the trail from the sky. He probably figured there would be more visibility from the air. Technoblade didn’t particularly care, as long as they got Tommy.

Ghostbur suddenly stopped moving. Techno slid to a halt, spraying snow everywhere.

The blood trail had ended. It was obvious what Dream had decided to do.

“He used an ender pearl,” Techno said, trying to keep his voice steady. He looked up at Phil. “HE USED AN ENDER PEARL!” He shouted. “TRY TO FIND RANDOM BLOOD SPLATTERS!”

Phil immediately started flying around, searching for a random blood splatter where Dream would have eventually landed with Tommy in tow. Techno veered to the direction that would take him farthest away from his house and continued running.

“I’ll take another direction!” Ghostbur called out behind Techno.

Good. The sooner they find the trail, the better.

As soon as Tubbo came to the end of the trail, he started repeating Technoblade’s instruction to Phil to Ranboo, Quackity, and Fundy.

“Everyone split up!” Tubbo called out, “And look for a blood spatter! Once we find that one, we can guess Dream continued going in that same direction!”

As he ran, Tubbo’s heart felt like a million fireworks were exploding inside it again and again. Tommy was alive. Tommy wasn’t dead. Dream said Tommy was dead.

Did Dream lie? Was Dream simply mistaken? If Dream was simply mistaken, why was he kidnapping Tommy? Why was Tommy bleeding and leaving a trail of blood in the snow? He could still hear his friend’s screams ringing in his ears.

All Tubbo knew was that he had a horrible feeling that if they didn’t catch up with Tommy and Dream, something horrible was going to happen to Tommy. And suddenly, a quest to kill Technoblade feels insignificant, even frivolous.

Tubbo’s been so, _so_ stupid. And now Tommy was going to pay for it.

A splash of dark red amidst the white snow flashed and Tubbo’s vision, and Tubbo stopped so violently he ended up rolling forward in the cold, wet snow. Getting to his feet, he pulled out his communicator and began typing and screaming at the same time:

“I FOUND IT!”

Phil heard him first, and Tubbo saw him flying toward Tubbo. Tubbo didn’t wait for him, though. He was already running, stumbling over his own feet as he sprinted in the same direction, praying that Dream wasn’t smart enough to go in random directions.

They didn’t find a clear trail immediately. They didn’t find anything, really. Other than a few more blood splatters, there was no trace of Tommy and Dream.

Technoblade, Fundy, and Quackity began searching L’manberg and the SMP. Phil had gone into the nether. Tubbo, Ghostbur, and Ranboo were left searching the area surrounding Logstedshire and Technoblade’s cabin.

Tubbo hadn’t realized that they had been searching for hours until he collapsed face-first into the snow. He was tempted to just lie there and never get up ever again.

“Oh no! Tubbo, are you alright?”

Tubbo rolled over onto his back and looked up at Ghostbur wearily. “Don’t worry about me,” he said, “We need to keep looking for Tommy.”

Ghostbur’s face flashed with _something_ before his face only became mildly worried. Tubbo tried not to let that unsettle him too much.

“Yes… I—” Ghostbur cut himself off, staring off into the distance. “I’m not sure we’re going to find Tommy today.” Ghostbur said the words in a rush, like he was saying some forbidden phrase.

Tubbo blinked at him, trying to ignore an icy tear that rolled down his cheek. Ghostbur looked scandalized with himself and floated higher into the air, rubbing his hand through his hair.

“What am I saying?” he said, clearly straining to make his voice cheerful again, “He’ll show up! Tommy always shows up! This is just another one of his silly pranks. I love it when Tommy pranks us; it reminds me of those times when we were younger, Tommy would always find some silly way to make us laugh—”

Tubbo burst into tears.

Ghostbur looked panicked, and began basically dumping piles of blue at Tubbo. It didn’t make Tubbo feel any better. It only made him feel worse, really.

“I’m distracting you,” Tubbo choked out, pulling himself to his feet. He wiped the tears from his eyes and the snow off of his clothing and rubbed at himself to stay warmer. “We need to keep looking for Tommy.”

Ghostbur nodded quickly. “That’s a good idea.” He hesitated. “Do you need some more blue?”

A simple smile had never before felt like such a blatant lie. “I’m fine,” Tubbo said, swallowing down the lump in his throat, “We need to find Tommy.”

Tubbo continued walking forward, searching desperately for any sign, any clue that Tommy might have left behind.

Nothing was his only reward.

Tommy woke up in a cold, dark room.

As he looked around, trying to take in his surroundings, he became aware of many things at once.

First of all, his leg hurt like heck. If he recalled correctly, that would have to do with the fact that Dream, _you know,_ stabbed him.

 _He probably deserved it, for opposing Dream like that._ No. Tommy stood up to Dream, and Dream kidnapped him. Dream couldn’t justify that.

 _Dream was just trying to take him back to where he belonged._ Tommy belonged back with Phil at Techno’s small cottage. He belonged with his family. Tommy did _not_ belong with Dream in this musty, small, and dimly lit room.

The second thing Tommy became aware of was his ravenous hunger. His stomach gnawed at his insides, and Tommy felt like he had a headache coming on.

To make matters even better, Tommy wasn’t just hungry. He also felt incredibly _thirsty._

This wasn’t the first time Tommy had felt this way. It was almost a regular occurrence during exile. He should’ve known better than to get used to being fed with Phil and Technoblade.

 _Dream would probably feed him if he behaved._ Tommy would just escape and find his own food. Easy enough. The first thing he needed to do was simply get outside of this room.

Tommy pulled himself off of the cold, hard ground and carefully tried to balance on one leg. Blood began rushing to his head, and Tommy quickly leaned on the wall for support. When his vision cleared up, he realized.

Everything was made out of obsidian. Even the floor. Tommy wondered why he didn’t notice it sooner. There were no doors. There were no windows. It was simply Tommy. Alone. In this small, dark, obsidian room.

So much for the escape plan.

Tommy laid back down on the ground and tried not to think about the nightmare of a situation he was in. Dream wasn’t supposed to find him. He was supposed to be _safe._

If only he hadn’t decided to see how Tubbo was doing, maybe Tommy would have been safe in their hidden basement. Maybe Dream wouldn’t have found him there. But _no,_ Tommy just had to go upstairs and not pay attention to how long his invisibility was lasting.

Tommy wasn’t sure how much time passed before the wall opened and new light suddenly blinded Tommy.

Dream walked into the room, and Tommy instinctively shrunk back. Then, his eyes landed on the opening.

Not giving a crap about the agonizing pain in his leg, Tommy began sprinting toward the exit. He barely made it five steps before Dream grabbed him by the arm and shoved him back against the wall. Tommy flung his arms out to catch himself, but he couldn’t manage to stop his head from hitting the obsidian.

Lights danced in Tommy’s vision as he blinked away tears from the agonizing pain.

“Tommy.” Dream sounded so disappointed that Tommy flinched. “I was going to bring you some food, but I guess you don’t want it yet.”

Tommy’s stomach growled loudly. “No, Dream, wait—”

“You shouldn’t have tried to escape,” Dream continued. Tommy noted that he was holding some blocks. “I’m only trying to keep you safe.”

“What—” Tommy forced his voice to stay steady. “What are you doing?”

“I’m keeping you safe,” Dream said again as he placed obsidian down, making the already small room even smaller.

Tommy didn’t like to say he was claustrophobic, but the idea of being completely trapped in a cramped room was not a pleasant one. Tommy couldn’t prevent his voice from shaking this time. “It’s too small, Dream.”

“If you behave, it can get larger,” Dream said, cocking his head, “I’m only trying to do what’s best for you.”

Tommy’s breath hitched. “How, how—” He couldn’t finish his question. _How is this what’s best for me?_

“One day, you’ll understand.” Dream disappeared into the doorway, and soon, Tommy was alone in the darkness again. He collapsed onto the ground instantly, his body crying out in agony.

He was so tired. He was so hungry. He was so thirsty. He was in _so much_ pain.

So, Tommy cried, curled up into a little ball, his body pressed against the walls of his tiny room. 

Night had long fallen, leaving Tubbo to fight monsters while searching for any sign of Tommy. In his heart of hearts, he knew that there was no hope, that if he could’ve found his friend, he would’ve by now.

Tubbo refused to believe that. He had to believe that he could find Tommy. He had to—

“Well, look at you.”

Fireworks exploded in Tubbo’s chest again, but this time, it almost felt like they burnt against his skin. He spun around to see none other than a very much alive Schlatt.

Tubbo stumbled backward. “You’re dead,” he said, his voice trembling, “You’re dead.”

Schlatt smiled. “Oh, Tubbo,” he said, stepping closer to Tubbo, “You can never truly kill me. At least, not in there.” Schlatt poked Tubbo once in the chest. Tubbo flinched.

Wait a moment. He was supposed to be searching for Tommy. Tubbo spun around and marched away.

“I have better things to do,” he muttered.

Schlatt followed him. “So, I hear you’ve really been following my legacy.”

“Shut up,” Tubbo snarled, tightening his hands into fists.

Schlatt, as luck would have it, did not shut up. “I mean, exiling your best friend! I really didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I was trying to do what was best for L’manberg,” Tubbo said. He refused to look back at Schlatt as he spoke. “ _You_ were only trying to protect yourself.”

“Wilbur and Tommy _were_ threats to L’manberg, even if you refused to see it at the time.” Schlatt let out a snort. “Though, I see you’ve finally opened your eyes.”

“Exiling Tommy is the worst mistake of my life!” Tubbo shivered. The falling snow had gotten colder. “Now, he-Dream has—”

“Now, he’s out of the way,” Schlatt said, “Now, you don’t have to worry about him ever again.”

Tubbo spun around. “Shut up, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” he screamed, “I hate you! Why can’t you just stay dead?!”

“Trust me, I would love nothing more than to stay dead,” Schlatt said, “You’re the one raising me from the grave.”

Tubbo had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he didn’t care. “Well, go away. I’m trying to find Tommy.”

Schlatt didn’t go away as they walked into the nether. For some reason, the normally hot realm only made Tubbo shiver all the more.

“And then seeking out Technoblade, who hasn’t shown his face in weeks, to kill him!” Schlatt said, “Now _that,_ I really wasn’t expecting. What happened to the Tubbo that forgave Techno the minute after he killed you?”

“Nobody respects L’manberg anymore,” Tubbo said. He peered down at the lava as if Tommy and Dream might be hiding there. “We were just trying to regain that respect.”

Schlatt laughed. “Kid, the problem doesn’t lie in Technoblade. The problem is _you.”_

Tubbo stopped in his tracks. “What do you mean?”

“Nobody respects you. Nobody respects your decisions. How can a nation be strong if its own president doesn’t have any authority? You’re too nice, Tubbo.”

Tubbo gaped. “Five minutes ago, you were talking about how I was following in your footsteps!”

Schlatt shrugged. “Well, you’re slowly learning that the only way to control anyone is through fear, and I’m proud of you for that, kiddo.”

Tubbo took more steps away from Schlatt. “I don’t want to be like you,” he whispered, “I don’t want to be like you.”

Tommy’s voice suddenly echoed loudly, similar to Ghostbur’s. “It’s too late.”

Tubbo spun around to see Tommy. His skin was gray and he was staring at Tubbo with empty eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t be like him,” Tommy said, “But look at you now.”

Tubbo pulled a mirror out of his pocket. His reflection grinned evilly back at him; ram horns protruded from Tubbo’s skull. Tubbo dropped the mirror. It shattered into a million pieces. Schlatt stood in front of him again.

“Sorry, son,” he said, “But you know what we do with traitors.”

 _“I’m not a traitor,”_ Tubbo wanted to say, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, Tommy stepped forward and pushed Tubbo over the edge of the bridge, and he was falling—

Tubbo jerked awake suddenly. He looked around frantically to see himself inside some sort of room. After making sure that he was thoroughly alive, Tubbo’s hands flew to his head, and he felt under his soft hair.

Nothing. His skull was as smooth as always.

Still, Tubbo’s unspoken fear manifested in his nightmare in such a way that Tubbo was surprised that there weren’t at least too little stubs where ram horns would start growing in.

“You’re awake.” Tubbo looked at the source of the voice and found it to be Ranboo, who was sitting in the corner of the room. “Phil found you and brought you back here.”

Tubbo swallowed. “Tommy?”

Ranboo only looked away, which was answer enough. Tubbo sunk back under his blankets.

“This is all my fault,” he whispered, “I told him I wouldn’t—” He cut himself off.

“Wouldn’t what?”

Tubbo swallowed. “Wouldn’t become the next Schlatt,” he whispered.

Ranboo shuffled uncomfortably. “Tubbo, you do know that _you_ weren’t the one who hurt and kidnap Tommy, right?”

“I might as well have,” Tubbo muttered bitterly, “I was the one who exiled him, wasn’t I? I was the one who caused Tommy to be left defenseless.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Ranboo hesitated. “Dream was the one who pressured you into exiling Tommy, and we all came to kill Techno. It wasn’t just you.”

“It doesn’t matter how pressured I was.” Tubbo squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to think about Schlatt’s grinning face. “I still did it.”

“Listen,” Ranboo said, “I never knew J’schlatt, but from what I’ve heard, he would never have admitted that he did the wrong thing.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Yeah, it kind of is.”

Tubbo scowled and forced himself out of bed, even though standing felt like a chore. “We need to keep looking for Tommy.”

Ranboo pushed him back into the bed. “No, you are going to stay in that bed.”

Tubbo gritted his teeth. “Ranboo, as your president, I—”

“Am going to rest,” Ranboo said, firmly putting the blankets back over Tubbo. “Tubbo, we found you asleep in the snow.”

“Great,” Tubbo groaned, “I was the only one sleeping when I was supposed to be looking.”

“No, actually,” Ranboo said, “If we weren’t taking small breaks, we ate food and drank potions so that we wouldn’t fall asleep and die. You were the one working yourself into the ground without any care for your health.”

“Why are we talking about my health when we should be really worrying about Tommy’s?!” Tubbo cried out, trying to hold back the tears rising to his eyes.

“Because you matter too,” Ranboo said.

Tubbo burst into sobs. Ranboo hugged him awkwardly.

“It’s not your fault,” he said.

Tubbo could never believe that.

The next time Dream came in, Tommy didn’t try to escape. He wasn’t sure he could if he even tried.

 _Next time._ Tommy told himself as he gratefully took the apple and glass of water from Dream. _I’ll try to escape next time._

The next time he tried to escape, Dream kept him in a room so small that Tommy couldn’t even lie down completely. Tommy barely felt like he could breathe as he felt all four walls pressing down on him.

When Dream slowly began to make the room larger again, Tommy nearly cried from gratitude.

After three visits from Dream without Tommy trying to escape, Dream applied some potion onto his leg. It still hurt after that, but it was way better than before, when Tommy was pretty sure it was infected.

Tommy found himself slowly forgetting about escape and looking more and more forward to Dream’s visits. Dream was even talking about letting him have a walk around outside if he behaved!

It wasn’t until a really frightening nightmare about Wilbur’s descent into insanity that Tommy remembered what Dream was doing to him.

Tommy forced himself not to have a panic attack there and now. It was alright. He could try and escape when Dream finally let him have a walk outside. Until then, he was just going to have to be on his best behavior.

 _He was being ungrateful, planning on escaping from Dream, who had only ever tried to protect him._ This wasn’t protection. This was imprisonment.

To prepare for the day, Tommy practiced walking around the small area of his cell. It was exhausting, which was not overly encouraging for his escape chances.

Still, Tommy couldn’t give up. He couldn’t let Dream win.

Tommy made a new plan that only half relied on his ability to run.

When the day arrived, Tommy’s heart wouldn’t stop trying to beat out of his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was from nerves, dread, or guilt that he shouldn’t have.

 _He shouldn’t be doing this._ He had to do this.

Dream opened up the wall, as always, and Tommy blinked the light out of his eyes. “Alright, Tommy,” Dream said, “You’ve been behaving so well, I think it’s time for another reward.”

Tommy waited for Dream to hoist him up and slowly lead him out the door. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely, “I don’t deserve this.”

“Don’t be silly, Tommy,” Dream said, “You earned this.”

Tommy squashed down the glowing pride he felt at those words. Dream meant none of it. He needed to focus on escaping.

Dream forced Tommy to lean against him as they walked farther outside. Tommy reveled in the feel of the sunlight on his skin, and the fresh air that didn’t feel like his own recycled carbon dioxide.

He couldn’t enjoy himself forever, however. Tommy needed to make his move.

Before Dream could expect it, Tommy rammed his knee into the man’s groin. Dream doubled over, as Tommy hurriedly reached into Dream’s pockets, searching for the man’s communicator.

His hand landed on the familiar shape, and Tommy grabbed it and _ran._

He sprinted forward as he struggled to type the coordinates displayed on the communicator into the message box.

Tommy could hear Dream shouting after him. He needed to hurry.

Tommy sent the coordinates and immediately sent out another message with it:

_Don’t respond._

He only just managed to delete both messages so that Dream wouldn’t see them before he was slammed into the ground. Dream violently ripped the communicator out of Tommy’s hands. Tommy watched him visibly relax after glancing at the screen.

It worked, thank god.

Tommy’s relief was short-lived, however. When Dream redirected his attention toward him, Tommy felt his entire body seize.

“I give you a gift, and this is how you thank me?” Dream snarled, pulling out his sword.

In the past, almost as if in another life, Tommy would’ve said something clever in response. Now, however, the weaker of his two warring instincts won over.

“I’m sorry!” Tears spilled out of Tommy’s eyes as he tried to shrink away from Dream, but the masked man had him pinned to the ground. “I’m sorry, Dream, please—”

Dream raised his sword. “You brought this upon yourself, Tommy.”

“Dream, _please—”_

The sword came down. Agonizing pain followed. Tommy _shrieked._ This was too much. Why couldn’t have Dream killed him? Death would have been better than this horrible pain. Why couldn’t he die?

Then… nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this installment just keeps getting longer. What was once only going to be one chapter is now going to be three. 
> 
> Unlike some fics, Technoblade's voices only know what Techno knows. They are not all knowing. 
> 
> Is Schlatt Tubbo's father? I'm sorry, I love this au, so I wanted to dip into it a little. Since Tubbo doesn't know the answer to this question and the only person who would know is _dead_ , it's really up to you guys to decide. But the whole point is that it's a horrible fear that Tubbo will never have closure for. 
> 
> Dream is a terrible person. And I'm so, _so_ sorry for not giving you the closure you were expecting from this chapter.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello, Tommy.”
> 
> Tommy jerked back, and his heart suddenly squeezed. Was that Dream? Where did he come from? Why couldn’t Tommy see him? Was he invisible? If he was invisible, how come Tommy didn’t see the door open? What was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, there are going to be some ableist things said and thought in this chapter. I do NOT believe any of it.

Philza hadn’t dared to hope when his communicator buzzed, but he pulled it out all the same, praying that maybe somebody had found his youngest.

When he saw coordinates from _Dream,_ his heart felt like it was doing flips at a high altitude. When the next message was _Don’t Respond,_ Phil didn’t know what to think.

Well, he certainly knew one thing. He needed to get to those coordinates.

He took to the air and _flew_. Tommy needed him. Tommy was in danger. He needed to protect his son.

“Tommy,” Tubbo whispered, staring at his communicator. He forced himself out of bed, startling Ranboo. “It’s Tommy.” He spoke louder now. “Come on!”

“Tubbo, I’m not sure—” Ranboo started.

“Tommy is in danger because of _me!”_ Tubbo gestured at himself violently. “I’m not going to sit by and do nothing when we are _holding_ his location in our hands.”

Tubbo began swaying on his feet, but that didn’t stop him from heading determinedly for the door. He needed to get to Tommy. He needed to save his friend.

And suddenly he was on the floor.

“Tubbo!” Ranboo rushed over to him, helping Tubbo to his feet. “You’re sick. You can’t go out like this.”

Tubbo began shivering. “But, Tommy—”

“I’m sure Philza and Technoblade are already half way there,” Ranboo said calmly, “You need to stay in bed. What would Tommy think if he came back to see you dead because you refused to take care of yourself?”

Tubbo reluctantly allowed Ranboo to lead him back to the bed. “He would be glad,” he slurred miserably, “He would be glad that his traitor of a friend is gone.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Ranboo replied, his voice quiet.

Tubbo curled in on himself from underneath the sheets. Why would Tommy give a crap about him? Tubbo was the one who exiled him. Tubbo was the one who handed him over to Dream on a silver platter. Tommy had no reason to care.

But then again, Tommy was always loyal to a fault. Even after Wilbur jumped off the deep end, Tommy stayed loyal to him.

Tubbo couldn’t just leave Tommy be when he _knew_ his location. That wouldn’t be right.

So, as Ranboo was sitting down on the chair beside Tubbo’s bed, Tubbo leaped out of the other side of the bed and sprinted outside, completely disregarding Ranboo’s startled shouts.

Tubbo swiped a couple of strength and swiftness potions from Technoblade’s chests on his way out. He was likely running on pure adrenaline now, but Tubbo knew it wouldn’t last long. He needed to get to Tommy, and for that he needed the potions.

_Hang on, Tommy._

Tommy jerked awake, gasping for air. The mustiness of the room seemed even more obvious than before, and Tommy wanted to gag from the smell.

Wait. He wasn’t dead. He was alive. How could he possibly have been alive after all that pain? How was it possible? Tommy was so _sure_ he was going to die.

Tommy reached up and touched his eyes, which was where Dream’s sword had cut him. The only thing he could feel was a lumpy scar that went all the way across his nose and around the edges of his eyes.

The eyes themselves seemed to be intact, although Tommy felt piercing pain whenever he prod on them.

Oh well, at least he was alive. And the pain itself had dulled considerably.

Tommy looked about him, trying to discern if he was in the same room as before, or if Dream had figured out his plan and moved him. Then again, Dream might just build the room exactly the same, so it wouldn’t make much of a difference.

However, as Tommy looked around, he found that he couldn’t see anything. Darkness blanketed his surroundings. Perturbed, Tommy lifted his hand in front of his face and wiggled his fingers. Nothing.

Well, that was alright, Tommy would just have to wait for his eyes to adjust.

Tommy waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. He still couldn’t see for crap. The darkness pressed down on him, suffocating his every breath, filling his every thought.

_Could he really be—_

Tommy refused to humor the idea. There was no possible way.

It was _fine._ Soon, Dream would come, and then, at least, Tommy would get some light from the door. Dream must’ve simply figured out a way to make the room even darker than before.

After who knows how long, Tommy heard a loud sound. It sounded like the wall was opening up, but that couldn’t be right, because no light filtered the room. Were there other rooms nearby?

“Hello, Tommy.”

Tommy jerked back, and his heart suddenly squeezed. Was that Dream? Where did he come from? Why couldn’t Tommy see him? Was he invisible? If he was invisible, how come Tommy didn’t see the door open? What was going on?

Tommy’s breathing quickened, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his breathing steady. He was losing control over his breathing in the same way he had lost control over his sight.

_Did the sword really—_

No, no, _no._ Tommy refused to believe it.

A hand grabbed Tommy’s arm, and Tommy screamed, immediately trying to shake off the phantom touch.

“What. Where. _How—”_ Tommy couldn’t complete his own questions as he struggled to understand what the hell was happening.

“Tommy, it’s Dream,” Dream’s voice said, “You’re alright.”

 _Alright?_ What a joke.

“What did you do to me?” Tommy whispered, “Why can’t I—why can’t—”

A lump rose up in Tommy’s throat, and try as he might, he couldn’t stop the sob that burst from his chest.

The phantom hand grabbed him by the shoulder this time, and Tommy jerked back harder than before. Too many people had grabbed his shoulder with the intention of hurting him. This time, he couldn’t even _see_ his assailant.

The hand did not move.

“ _Tommy,”_ Dream said sternly.

Tommy stiffened, not even daring to breathe. Dream was probably looking at him with that stupid frown on his face, looking _so_ disappointed, and Tommy was going to have to be punished because he couldn’t do one damn thing, and—

Dream began speaking again. “You did this too yourself Tommy. You ran, and I had to stop you for your own good. I tried to heal you as best as I could. See? Your eyes don’t hurt that much anymore.”

That was true. Tommy no longer felt like he wanted to die from the pain, but of course, that was an observation he made before Tommy even realized that he couldn’t screwing _see_ anything.

Still, it was kind of Dream to take away the pain. Not just kind. Generous. Merciful. Tommy didn’t deserve that. Tommy had tried to run away from Dream, Dream could’ve killed him, or left him in misery, but instead he had chosen to take away as much as the pain as possible.

Something about this didn’t sit right with Tommy.

“But-but you—” Tommy stuttered, “You were the one who—”

Another hand landed on his other shoulder. Tommy tensed even more than he thought possible. What was Dream going to do? What expression was his mouth twisted in now? Probably disappointed. Maybe even angry.

_Please, don’t let it be angry._

“You were trying to run away to Techno and Philza,” Dream said, sounding like he was schooling a young child, “They would’ve only hurt you more, Tommy.”

“But, they were helping—”

“They were _using_ you. They might’ve seen nice at first, but they only wanted to use you for their own ends.”

Tommy’s head pounded. He didn’t _understand._ “Aren’t you—” Tommy’s breath shuddered, but he forced himself to say the same words. “Aren’t you trying to do the same thing?”

Immediately after saying it, Tommy recoiled, expecting a slap from the invisible Dream. He hated that he couldn’t see it coming, that he had no idea when or where it would land.

Nothing happened. Instead, the phantom hands tightened slightly on his shoulders.

“Oh, Tommy,” Dream said sadly, “I’m afraid you’re useless to me.”

Tommy’s heart _stopped._

“What. But, you said, you said that,” Tommy didn’t even know what he was trying to say as his words started flowing out as incoherent babbling.

One of the phantom hands freed his shoulder and caressed his cheek, and a shudder ran down Tommy’s spine even as he leaned into the touch.

“How could you have ever been useful to me?” Dream asked, hushing Tommy, “Even before, you could never stand your own in a fight. You have always been weak, and pathetic, and a coward.”

Tommy flinched away at each word, but he couldn’t deny the truth of the statement. Besides, it wasn’t anything Dream hadn’t already reminded him of.

“And now?” Dream’s voice hardened. “You’re blind, Tommy. Because of your foolishness, you have a disability that can’t be taken back. You’re completely helpless now.”

Tommy’s heart pounded against his chest as he tried to form a reply. “Then, then, why haven’t you killed me?”

“Because I care about you.” The hand pressed down against his hair and ruffled it once before disappearing again. Tommy felt empty where the touch once was. “I’m your only friend. I just want to keep you safe.”

Tommy nodded. “You’re right,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Dream said, “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

Tommy couldn’t see it, but that didn’t stop him from imagining a proud smile gracing Dream’s face.

And suddenly a loud rumble shook the ground underneath Tommy.

“Wha—”

Hands grabbed Tommy violently by the shoulders and yanked him upward. Tommy struggled to find his footing; he began panicking as Dream started dragging him to who knows where.

“Dream, where are we going?!” Tommy yelped as he was yanked in a sharp turn.

The rumbling grew louder, sounding like the explosions in L’manberg.

“What. Did. You. _Do?”_ Dream’s voice was a low growl. Dangerous. Tommy had screwed up, _again_.

He hoped he wouldn’t lose his hearing this time.

“I, I—” Tommy stumbled over the words as he stumbled over his own feet.

Dream made a snarling sound. Suddenly, a hand slapped him across the face. Tommy let out another surprised shout at the unexpected pain.

“Stop being such a dead weight and _tell me what you did_.”

Tommy began feeling dizzy as they made yet another sharp turn. “I just, I just typed in the coordinates, and, and sent—”

“You _sent_ them _the coordinates?”_

Tommy’s heart flipped, and his eyes burned with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“You never think, Tommy,” Dream sneered, “With thinking like that, it’s a wonder you’re not dead by now. Without me, you would be.”

A new voice entered Tommy’s hearing. _“Tommy!”_

Tommy frowned. Who was it? The accent sounded like Phil’s, but maybe Tommy was just imagining things. Why would Phil come for him?

 _Phil cared about him._ Phil didn’t give a crap about him.

And suddenly the hands yanked him against a body, probably Dream’s, and Tommy felt something cold and painfully sharp touch the skin of his neck.

“Don’t move!”

Dream’s voice echoed, giving the Tommy the illusion of a cave or long hallway. He supposed that they could also be in an atrium, but the cold darkness that enveloped Tommy made it hard for him to imagine that.

For a moment, the only sound Tommy could hear was his own breathing. What was going on?

_“Tommy?”_

Tommy stopped breathing. Was that Tubbo? Surely not. It was probably Ghostbur or someone like that.

“Tubbo, what the hell are you doing here?” the voice that Tommy thinks might be Philza asked, “You’re supposed to be in bed!”

Tommy’s heart swelled. It was Tubbo. He came. He cared. Tubbo didn’t hate him after all. _Unless he was just here to mock him._

“Yeah, I…” Tubbo’s words slurred together, and Tommy heard a thumping noise. This was followed by a startled cry from maybe-Philza.

Tommy instinctively moved forward, but he was both held back by Dream’s strong grip and the searing pain of the metal digging into his neck. Was it a knife? Sword? Why was Dream doing this? Was he going to kill him? He’d deserve it, but Tommy wasn’t sure if he wanted to die anymore. But could he really stand being forever alone in the dark?

These thoughts did nothing to calm the shortness of his breathing and the rapidity of his heartrate.

“You can’t win this,” Dream snarled, his voice right up against Tommy’s ear, “You can’t help Tubbo and kidnap Tommy at the same time. Pick one.”

“You’re the one who kidnapped him,” maybe-Philza’s voice was cold, “Let my son go.”

He was definitely Phil, in that case.

“I’m keeping Tommy safe.” Tommy cried out as he was jerked backward again.

“Oh yeah?” A voice that was neither Tubbo nor Philza entered the scene. “Then, do you care to tell me who ran a sword across Tommy’s face?”

“It was for his own good.” Tommy felt the metal dig deeper into his neck. Tommy whimpered like the pathetic weakling he was.

“Get away from him,” the new voice snarled, “Or I swear I’ll end you myself.”

“And risk Tommy’s life? I don’t think so.”

Tommy was going to die. There was no doubt about it now. Either Tommy was going to die, or Dream was going to die, or they were both going to die, or Tommy was going to be taken away from Dream, and Dream was his only friend, and—

“Tommy! We’ve been looking all over for you! Where have you…”

Ghostbur’s voice –and it was definitely Ghostbur’s voice, Tommy didn’t know anyone _else_ whose voice echoed like that—trailed off as he probably read the room.

Oh, how Tommy wished he could see what was actually going on. He hated all of these new voices suddenly popping up, only confusing the list of people he had in his head. What if there were more people just standing silently?

 _We’ve been looking all over for you._ Because Tommy was a valuable tool? No, Ghostbur wouldn’t sound so happy about finding a missing tool.

Oh, who was he kidding? Ghostbur sounded happy about a screwing sheep.

Thinking about the sheep made Tommy think about the sheep that Ghostbur practically thrust upon him. He was blue.

Tommy would never see the color blue again.

Tommy tuned back into the conversation “—this. Take me instead,” the voice Tommy hadn’t identified said. Based off the inflection, it might’ve been Technoblade.

“Don’t make me laugh.” Dream’s voice became suddenly confident. Smug. “You can’t be tied down. Not like my poor Tommy here. If you’re bargaining like this, you must be desperate.”

Dream was winning. That was good, right? _But there was a time when Tommy wanted Dream to lose._ But that was all in the past, Dream was his friend now. _Would his friend really slice his face in half?_ It was for his own protection! _How is destroying someone’s sight protection?_

Why was Tommy so confused all the time? First Dream was bad, then he was good, then he was bad again, and then he was good again. Why couldn’t his brain make up its mind?

Tommy let out a gasp as he was yanked a couple more steps backward. The motion was not enough to break him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Why couldn’t things be simple like they always were? Why couldn’t Tommy go back to seeing Dream as the enemy like he always had?

_Like he always had._

And like pieces in a puzzle, everything began clicking into place.

Tommy had died trying to escape from _Dream_ in the final control room. _Dream_ had killed Tommy in that duel for L’manberg’s independence.

 _Dream_ was the one who only enabled Wilbur’s insanity. _Dream_ was the one who demanded that Tommy be exiled. _Dream_ was the one who blew up his stuff daily, who intentionally isolated him, who made Tommy wish for death until Tommy finally had enough and ran away.

 _Dream_ was the one who kidnapped Tommy from his new home and took a sword to his eyes.

Tommy had allowed himself to fall into the same trap _twice_. Tommy was stupid enough to let himself be tricked by Dream _again_ even though he had already known what Dream was like. How pathetic was that?

And suddenly, Tommy’s blood began boiling. How dare Dream manhandle him like this? He wasn’t a toy to be yanked around. He was TommyInnit, and he would be damned if he let this green jerk make Tommy into a puppet.

Adrenaline surged through him, and Tommy forgot any of the fear he had felt only moments before.

“Dream,” he growled, “Let go of me, or I swear, I’ll beat your sorry butt into the ground until your mask is nothing but dust.”

Someone let out a startled laugh.

Dream, to his credit, did not miss a beat. “And how are you going to do that, Tommy? You can’t see a thing. You’re helpless without me.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Philza said sharply, “He’s lying.”

Tommy wanted to believe Philza, but how could he possibly be telling the truth? Regardless of whether he trusted Dream or not, it was true that he could do _nothing_ without help.

Still, it wouldn’t stop Tommy from trying to get this knife (or sword) off of his neck, and Tommy reached up to grab Dream’s arm and move the knife away from him. Dream was strong, however, and Tommy only managed to get it slightly less into the skin than before.

Suddenly, Dream made a jerking movement, causing Tommy to be pulled backward. The sharp metal slid across Tommy’s neck, causing hot blood to start flowing freely.

And suddenly, there was a loud thump, and Tommy was on the ground, lying on top of what he assumed to be Dream’s body.

“I did it!” Ghostbur exclaimed, “Technoblade, look! I’ve killed Dream!”

_What?_

Tommy flinched back when the phantom hand returned to his shoulder. What was Wilbur talking about? Dream wasn’t dead. He was right here, squeezing his shoulder until it burned—

“Tommy, it’s me, Technoblade,” Technoblade said gruffly.

Tommy frowned. That’s… right. Technoblade was only being gentle as he guided Tommy to an upright position.

Something cold and smooth was pressed into Tommy’s hand. A bottle, if the roundness was anything to go by.

“Drink that,” Technoblade said, his voice pressed with urgency, “For your neck.”

Oh yeah. Tommy had nearly forgotten about the hot, rushing sensation of blood on his throat. And now, Tommy felt like his entire body was crashing down on him, and a terrible pain pulsed on his neck.

Tommy carefully uncorked the potion and drank it. A thrum of energy rushed through his veins, and Tommy sagged in relief as the pain in his neck faded into nothingness.

“Dream?” Tommy asked, his voice shook.

“Dead,” Technoblade grunted, “For now, at least.”

None of them knew how many lives Dream had left. This could be his first, second, or third death for all they knew.

Not a very comforting thought, all things considered.

Tommy suddenly remembered Tubbo and that thumping sound. “What about Tubbo?” he asked, his voice suddenly filling with panic, “Where is he?”

Tommy shuddered when Technoblade gently squeezed his arms. He tried not to think about Dream’s firm and unyielding grip.

“Tubbo’s fine,” Technoblade said, “He just fell unconscious because he’s an idiot who doesn’t know what it means to sleep.”

“Phil has him!” Ghostbur said cheerfully.

“We should get going,” Phil’s voice echoed across the _tunnel? Room? Hallway?_

It didn’t matter. Tommy was more than glad to be led gently through the winding journey. There were no abrupt turns. No furious yanks.

“And Tommy?” Phil said, “I’ve met blind people who are as capable to live independently as anybody else. You’re _not_ helpless.”

Tommy let out a shuddering breath. He wasn’t sure if he could believe that, but he appreciated the sentiment none the less.

And as Tommy stepped onto soft earth and felt warmth soak into his skin for the first time in what felt like _months,_ Tommy finally felt _safe_ again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, the pain is over. 
> 
> So, I did a lot of research and tried my best to avoid any ableism outside of Dream being a jerk and Tommy believing Dream. However, I understand how easy it is to be unintentionally ableist, so please tell me _nicely_ in the comments if anything rubs you the wrong way. 
> 
> For anyone else in the writing community that wants to write blind characters [this blog](https://mimzy-writing-online.tumblr.com/) is a great source, and there are a lot of great youtubers that describe what it's like to be blind. I mainly watched Molly Burke. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! There is still more to come for this series, so I hope you'll continue reading! :)


End file.
